Foreign Extraction
by Mariagoner
Summary: Temptation never completely obliterates nostalgia. A new series of crossovers and interactions between the FFXII cast and those of other worlds. First chapter: VosslerSirius.
1. VosslerSirius

As a way of celebrating the end of this school year and the near-end of my work within it (only one paper left to go! woo-hoo!), I decided to start on a fun new FFXII cross-over series that would be quick and easy to work on and hopefully read. This is just the start of it and I'm committed to at least 4 more drabbles... but we'll see if it continues beyond that.

And as always, reviews, comments and criticisms are much appreciated. It's always nice to know when people enjoy my work!

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**Title: Foreign Extraction, Chapter 1**

**Fandom: Final Fantasy XII, Harry Potter**

**Series: Foreign Extraction**

**Characters/Pairings: Vossler/Sirius, Sirius/Remus, Vossler/Basch, varies**

**Rating: R**

**Summary: Temptation never completely obliterates nostalgia. (A new series of cross-overs and interactions between the FFXII cast and those of other worlds.)**

**Note: This one's for Puella Nerdii, who wanted Vossler/Sirius and rough sex. Hope you enjoy and thank you for the brilliant idea! I'm going to have reckless amounts of fun with this series, oh yes I am.**

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There were nails scoring his back now, nails longer and sharper and more cutting than the ones he had known before. There was hair, too, being draped along Vossler's shoulders, hair that was too long and too wavy and too black, hair that reminded him (more than anything else) of the dissipated aristocracy of the Solidor. There was no warmth in the skin beneath him; no camaraderie in what is being offered up.

But perhaps was it was better this way-- better to be able to lose himself in the diametric opposite of what he had, what he would never and should not want to ever find once more. And beneath him, the near-boy-- how old? 19? 20?-- shivered and cursed the wolfish name belonging to another, betraying himself once more.

But he would not be so weak, oh never, and one prisoner to him is just as good as any other. And in the hell he had long lost within, he had long since learned to take all that he can and demand nothing of memory's sort.

But when he dove back into the boy's mouth, it was still a struggle not to breath words of foreign extraction, to close his eyes and picture another, just because he could.


	2. BaschLupin

Good god, as the first bit of porn I've written in months, you'da thunk this might have been a bit more cheerful. And also, you'd expect more porn and less emotional consequences. Bah, my brain is failing me here.

But in any case, this is for the fabulous **logistikanyx**, she who keeps reviving the moribund Knots series and who keeps writing fabulous fic for the ffxii fanom as a whole. Darling, I do hope you enjoy this. ♥

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**Title: Foreign Extraction, Chapter 2  
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII, Harry Potter  
Series: Foreign Extraction  
Characters/Pairings: Basch/Lupin, Others  
Rating: Hard R  
Summary: Temptation never completely obliterates nostalgia. (A new series of cross-overs and interactions between the FFXII cast and those of other worlds.)**

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They set aside the rules first, a ban on biting being chief among them.

Remus is discreet as he explains just why, his eyes constantly being cast away. Ever the school teacher, he looks at his hands, at the pads of his fingers, as he explains as thoroughly as he can. History, entomology, genealogy, geography-- too much, perhaps, for the course of a night but he will be not make the mistake of endangering innocents yet again.

Some part of him, though, some strange part still expects to be laughed at after the fact. Some part expects to find an arm roughly drifting around his shoulders, dark eyes bright with laughter, a voice ribbing him eagerly-- _God, Moony, you could give Professor McGorgon a lesson on how to bore someone to tears--_

But the man across from him-- Basch in his own world, unnamed in this one still-- merely smiles and nods his assent.

His manner is such a change from what Remus has known so far. And he ought to considerate a blessing, yes.

"This means nothing," he reminds Basch tiredly, the dictates of the night already set. "Merely a short interlude before we go on. Nothing but a moment's rest."

And Basch's lips shift into a sort of lopsided smile and murmur, "I ask for nothing but that."

It's quick and brief, what comes afterwards, even for something meant as a respite from the battles they've both fled. There are no pyrotechnics, no displays of virility or versatility-- simply two middle aged men grappling with one another, sharp teeth carefully kept hidden behind their lips. And even as Remus surrenders to the feel of Basch's tongue and Basch's thighs, he keeps his eyes open and his mouth shut and does his best not to relive the past.

He thinks he hears Basch whisper a name in the crook of his neck at one point: soft and hoarse, sibilant and spirant, foreigner and riddled with doubled esses. If Remus had cared to, he could have distinguished it but he knows enough of his own selfishness to know he wouldn't give a damn.

He knows he whispers another name himself and hopes even Dora would not blame him.

And afterwards, when they roll away from each other, their skin damp with sweat and their legs still tangled, strange phrases rise up and beg to be whispered, like ghosts, like phantoms, like the dead.

_I'm sorry,_ for one.

_Forgive me,_ for another.

_I didn't mean to hasten your end._

"Thank you, Basch," he says quietly.

"You are welcome, Remus," his new lover returns with equal gentility.

And through the darkness they lie in, Remus can already hear the hitch in his voice as it hesitates over the last exhalation.


End file.
